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3.02.2017

This post has been a long time coming, but I wanted to follow up on my year-long experiment of only purchasing used clothing.

When I moved to New York City
in autumn of 2016, I made a commitment to live with less. I'd
anticipated a smaller apartment, minimum closet space, and less income to
spend on "wants." (Ironically, I actually have more of all three of
those things. Funny how life works.) Having no idea what my new job
might demand attire-wise, and still nursing a pretty strong attraction
to all things thrift store, I decided to let myself continue to shop for
clothes; but I made two rules for myself:

RULES:

1)
If I wanted more / different clothing, I had to acquire it secondhand
(via thrift / consignment shop, clothes swap, or passed on from a
friend.)

2) Exceptional necessities like work uniforms
and undergarments could be purchased new, but only from a brand with
ethical values.

THE PROCESS

Between October 2015 and
November 2016, I became well-acquainted with New York's thrift shops. I
researched ethical brands and poured over library books and blog posts
comparing eco-conscious options. I committed myself to improving my capsule wardrobes and added the challenge of vlogging
my seasonal collections. This helped remind me (and exemplify to
others) just how far a small closet can stretch. When I found myself
sighing over dresses and shoes in shop windows, I made notes of their
brand, style, and silhouette -- handy keywords for the next time I found
myself on Ebay. The fast fashion shops I'd sworn off became research
fields; places for me to sample new trends without the pressure of
making a purchase. With this information, I could make better-informed investments at my secondhand locales.

A few months in, I was excited to find that my clothes were holding up remarkably well. Even more exciting, between working part time and taking my number-one distraction off the table, I had a truckload of free hours on my hands. The time I might have spent shopping was instead passed at the library and pouring over my
borrowed treasures. I learned how to properly launder clothes. I
identified my style icons. I educated myself on the history of American
clothing production and the emergence of fast fashion. I defined my
chosen values under the umbrella of ethical fashion. Over the course of
the year, I read the following:*

How to be Parisian Wherever You Are (Anne Berest, Audrey Diwan, Sophie Mas, and Caroline De Maigret)

Maybe
educating yourself on personal style isn't the most academically
impressive pursuit, but I'm pretty proud of that list. Especially when I
consider it kept the fashion-obsessed part of me happy without spending
money and polluting the environment.

OBSTACLES

Of
course along with these triumphs came struggles. Below are some of the
issues I ran into on my journey, and the ways I dealt with each.

Problem: The Desire to, well, SHOP!

This
was, naturally, the trickiest habit to shake. You may be a practical
planner or live carefully inside your budget like me, but chances are if
you suddenly impose limits on your regular outlets, you'll immediately
start craving what you can't have.

Defense: Knowledge of Your Personal Style

Because NYC
thrift stores and consignment shops are abundant and fabulous, this wasn't as difficult as it could have
been. That said, secondhand shopping is a whole different beast than
buying new -- the most obvious difference existing in these three little
words: All Sales Final.

It takes adequate knowledge of your personal style
-- or real fake-it-til-you-make-it alacrity -- to make secondhand
decisions you won't regret. Real talk? I possessed neither of these
before beginning this experiment. It took a lot of trial-and-error,
plenty of personal examination, and a whole lot of reading (as evidenced
above) to develop.

Worth mentioning is the prerequisite
openness to exploring this in the first place. If you're the kind of
person who opens their closet and is happy with the choice of a black
t-shirt and jeans everyday, rock on with your bad self (and do so
sustainably, please!) If you make this same selection and secretly sob
into your cup of morning coffee, check out one of the books mentioned
above (The Style Mentors, You Are What You Wear, and The Curated Closet would be particularly helpful) and invite your inner badass on your next shopping expedition.

Problem: Boredom

Let's face it: everyone gets bored with their current closet from time to time. I may put on my best smug-bitch face in my capsule videos, but even the most beloved dress can become monotonous after you've worn it five times in one month.

Solution: Experimentation

Accessories
offer a quick fix here. These are typically cheap and therefore a
low-risk option at secondhand shops. I couldn't believe how the addition
of
a new-to-me fedora livened up my wardrobe last fall. Hats especially have
a strange power to make me feel like a whole 'nother person.

A
more involved and decidedly nerdier trick I developed was creating
"cheat sheets" for my capsule wardrobes. Essentially I built an Excel
flow-chart; starting with shoes and branching out horizontally with
corresponding bottom, top, and outerwear options, then worked my way
through the possible results throughout season. Ideally, your wardrobe is fully mixable and you can skip this sort of overthinking by pulling
things at random out of your closet and putting them on. The important
thing here is to challenge yourself to avoid pairing the same thing over
and over. Unless you like that, in which case, again, ROWYBS.

Many bloggers have sworn by the 10x10 challenge.
I personally found this project best lends itself to normcore,
neutral-palette wardrobes, which aren't really my style. But it's a
great place to start!

Problem: Damage & Disrepair

As
mentioned above, this wasn't a huge issue for me. Perhaps that was
largely thanks to starting off with a few high-quality garments; merino
blend sweaters, leather boots, a steadfast silk dress, and trusty
topcoat, for instance. Still, that didn't mean I was exempt from the
occasional oil smudge, pitstain, or straight-up bad investment (Ralph
Lauren cashmere-blend gloves, I'm looking at you...)

Solution: Mend, Hire, and Make Good Choices

In
terms of sustainability, replacement should be a last resort. Ideally,
you'll find a way to fix or reuse damaged garments and avoid mindless
substitution. After all, the most environmentally-friendly option when it comes to your closet is always wearing what you already own.

Over
the course of the year I paid several visits to my sewing box, mending
moth holes, busted toes, loose hems, lost buttons, and torn seams. I
called on the cobbler to resole my favorite boots (for the third time in
their long life), and will soon make another trip to doctor three other
pairs. I have yet to find a tailor here in the city, but that's on my
list of to-dos this season!

Of course, none of this
would have been feasible had I not made quality choices in the first
place. Whenever possible, strive to choose items that will be worthy of repair
when they finally give out. One of my proudest thrift store investments
this year was a pair of gently worn Frye knee boots. These shoes have
been known to last a lifetime, and I've been coveting their classic
styles for years now. The price point wasn't what I'd spend on just any
shoe, but it's been well-worth it. For my work wardrobe, I purchased a
like-new Equipment silk blouse, which I launder by hand with Castile
soap every second wear. My Rag & Bone wool toggle coat didn't come
cheap, even at consignment value, and I'll probably need to dry clean it
before storing it this spring. In short, choosing quality over
seasonal doesn't always mean cheap and easy, but in the long run, it's
likely to save you a lot of time and mental energy. (Who enjoys the agony that comes with replacing a favorite bra or discontinued jeans? NO ONE, THAT'S WHO.)

CONCLUSION

Hopefully
I've shed some light on this process and encouraged
some of you to try it for yourself! It was interesting to finally
conclude my experiment last November, what with Christmas right around
the corner. Admittedly, I did accept new gifts and make a few purchases for some
badly-in-need-of-replacement items, such as my work shoes and winter
gloves (dammit, Ralph Lauren.) As much as possible, however, I've tried to carry on these practices. Buying secondhand is still my go-to option when I need or
want new clothes -- and I do find myself "wanting" less now. I inspect
care labels and steer clear of items that contain synthetics (EXCEPT
bras, for which I have yet to find an adequate sustainable replacement.) I'm
gravitating more toward transparent brands, quality products, and
ethical production values.

Whatever sustainable decisions you make, remember: the
choice is yours, and the time is now. There's no "more right" way to do
this thing; everyone needs to decide what's suitable and productive for
their lifestyle. You'll learn unique truths on your own journey, I'm
sure. And when you do, I hope you'll return to share them below!

*It's
also worth mentioning the book that started me rethinking my shopping
habits in the first place, which I read a year prior to starting this
project: Elizabeth L. Cline's Overdressed: The Shockingly High Cost of Cheap Fashion.

3.01.2017

At long last, the fourth and final installment of my capsule wardrobe lookbook video series. I hope you enjoy it!

While these videos have been so much fun to create, they've also taken a great deal of time to produce (and a lot of energy for my aging computer!) Instead I'll be moving toward another artistic method of wardrobe presentation that I'm super excited to begin exploring and sharpening my skills toward So while this will be the final capsule wardrobe video for a while, it certainly won't be the end of my wardrobe building or personal style exploration!

About Me

My name is Rachel Brow. An NYC-based actor and writer, I view personal style as a method of creating, discovering, and communicating character. Join me on my journey toward a stylishly sustainable wardrobe!